


and as i look around, your eyes outshine this town

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Established Bechloe, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Merry Pitchmas Gift Exchange, Pitchmas 2020, Smut, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca and Chloe spend Christmas day celebrating with their family, then end the night with a little quality time of their own.Title from Jess Glynne'sThis Christmas.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 94





	and as i look around, your eyes outshine this town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yellow_Bird_On_Richland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/gifts).



> A Pitchmas 2020 gift for [turningtimeinthetardis](https://turningtimeinthetardis.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! I am so excited to be your Secret Santa this year, and I hope you enjoy the requested established fluffy/smutty Bechloe story. I hope you, and everybody else, have an incredible day!

It is somehow both so strange yet so amazing, Beca thinks, how things truly have come full circle. She remembers someone telling her one time that they would. That, eventually, she would see everything that she is, everything she has worked so hard to build, put so much love and care into, finally coming to fruition. It is not the feeling of tiny bodies clambering their way excitedly onto the mattress that solidifies that realization for her; Beca has known for a long time now that she truly did manage, somehow, to completely strike gold.

That Christmas morning excitement, though, childlike and unbridled, does cause her to look back, to silently reflect.

Beca remembers Christmases as a child, back before her family fell apart. She remembers the excitement of waking up on Christmas morning, of darting toward her parents’ bedroom and insisting that they all—Beca, her older brother and both of their parents—go check to see if Santa Claus had been to visit.

The holidays had been less fun after that. After the fighting, contained at first but eventually too much to keep under wraps, then the eventual divorce, Christmases were no longer filled with joy and excitement, but with the knowledge that one parent was waking up alone, and the worry that Beca couldn’t quite divide her time between both houses the way she would’ve really liked.

Fortunately, Beca realizes as her lids flutter open to the sight of bright, beaming faces, flushed cheeks and messy morning hair, that is not something she will ever have to worry about again. All she has to do is look to her right, to the image of the woman she has created this crazy, amazing life with, see her propping herself up on her elbows with a breathy chuckle and glistening eyes despite the early morning hour, and Beca knows that this is it, this is a family she will never have to lose, a family that will never, ever break.

“Mama, wake _up_!” Avery’s squealing voice demands, small hands smacking against Beca’s stomach through the thick winter comforter. “Santa came! He came!”

“He did?” Chloe’s sleep-laced voice questions with exaggerated surprise, and Beca glances over to see her twisting her body amidst the tangled sheets to lean down and hoist up their two-year-old, who hasn’t quite mustered the strength yet to pull himself up to the mattress’ height.

(If he has inherited Beca’s small body type, that particular achievement is probably a long way off.)

“Wait,” Beca questions, head tilting slightly as she eyes the five-year-old currently climbing onto her legs with a look of subtle amusement. “How do you know?”

While Avery pauses briefly, she eventually puffs out a mischievous giggle, balled fists lifting to cover her mouth. “Carson wanted to go see before we woke you and Mommy.”

Beca’s head tips toward her son this time, who is currently babbling something unintelligible to an intently listening Chloe as she smooths out his matted curls. “He did, huh?”

It is not long ago that their youngest child turned two; his vocabulary is still very much limited to wild arm gestures and incomplete sentences. Avery, of course, so much like Chloe in both appearance and loud, unabashed curiosity, has developed a habit of using him as a scapegoat, something both Beca and Chloe would usually chastise her for, but how can they do that today? Today is Christmas Day, it is _the most wonderful time of the year_ , and Beca wants nothing less than to stomp on their daughter’s excitement.

“Well,” Beca begins, finally pushing herself upright to tug the tiny redhead into her lap. “I’m pretty sure _Carson_ knows neither of you are supposed to be opening the safety gate without one of us.” Although she shoots Avery a look, there is no actual warning behind it, not this morning. It is clear that Avery knows it, too, given the way she simply giggles, before wriggling free from Beca’s hold to shuffle back off of the bed.

Evidently unfazed by Beca’s heatless glare, Avery reaches up to tug at Beca’s hand, the sleeve of her Christmas Eve onesie falling over her fingers. “He brought presents. _So_ many of them. We have to go open them!”

Beca really doesn’t care how early it is. She doesn’t care that it is still not fully light outside yet. Hell, she can even overlook the fact that she and Chloe don’t even get to share their usual, lazy good morning kiss, because the sheer joy radiating from their daughter—Carson doesn’t quite _get_ Christmas yet—is enough to fill her with the energy she needs to start the day, and Beca easily follows Avery’s lead in pulling herself from the nest that is her and Chloe’s bed, casting a knowing glance to Chloe over her shoulder all the while.

“Merry Christmas, Mama,” Chloe says in a low voice, smug grin stretching onto her lips.

“Pretty sure Santa brought some stuff for you, too,” Beca winks, though she doesn’t quite get the chance to really take in the pleasant surprise conveyed by Chloe’s raised brows, before Avery has begun to quickly tug her toward the door.

“Mommy, Carson, come _on_!” she yells, and all Beca can really do is chuckle.

At some point, they really are going to have to stop spoiling their children before they turn into total brats.

(In fairness, Avery is not normally _this_ bossy. It’s the _Christmas_ of it all, that’s all.)

Today, of course, is not that day.

* * *

It does not take long for Avery, with her wide, awestruck eyes and eager hands, to begin tearing her way messily through the elegantly wrapped (thank you, Chloe) presents surrounding the large, festively decorated Christmas tree. Carson, of course, needs a little help, and is ultimately much more interested in the packaging than the plethora of new toys and clothing he receives. The usually neatly organized living room (as neatly organized as is possible with two small children) is a wreck by the time they are done, but Beca really doesn’t care to tidy it.

Honestly, Beca doesn’t care about much of anything today, not when she is so lost in spending the perfect morning with her family. By lunchtime, she is happy to secure Carson comfortably into his gray colored car seat while Chloe settles Avery into hers—two parents, two children; they have the teamwork down to a fine art by now—and to make the short drive to her mother’s house, where her hyped up, Christmas-fueled babies can continue their chaos there.

Beca remembers holding her breath throughout the brief discussion as to who would host dinner this year. Before the babies came along, both Beca and Chloe had generally been happy to do it. Beca always found it fun, that whole domesticated time with Chloe as they cooked together and prepared to entertain. She doesn’t exactly yearn for it, though, not when she now has all of _this_ , this hectic life she would not trade for anybody nor anything. So, she is grateful for her mother and Frank’s offer to take the reins this year, and as Beca sits at the large, beautifully decorated table in her mother’s home, surrounded by a handful of the people she loves the most, she is happy to simply bask in this cheesy, perfect bubble of unmitigated joy, to think about how, once again, she truly has struck gold.

Of course, they don’t leave _everything_ to her parents. Beca and Chloe insist on taking over for clean up duty, while her mother and step-father squeeze in a little quality time with their grandchildren.

It registers to Beca, as her subtle gaze, lazy from the high of a mountain of food, lands on the sight of a radiant, humming Chloe scraping leftovers into plastic containers, that this is the first real time she has gotten to spend alone with her wife all day.

And it is not like Beca is necessarily _complaining_ ; their children always come first, that is just the way it is—neither she nor Chloe would ever have it any other way. But Beca has to silently admit that she enjoys the alone time, too. She could happily get lost in simply standing here, in quietly watching the vision that is the love of her life doing something as wildly mundane as clearing away leftovers, and do so without a single complaint.

She realizes, in fact, with their children occupied and less in need of their undivided attention, that it is perhaps the perfect time to present Chloe with her final gift. This morning had been all about the kids, but Beca wants Chloe to know that she is loved, too. Completely and irrevocably, Chloe is loved.

It is easy for Beca to quietly slip away to retrieve the gift from the large bag previously containing her parents’ presents. She returns with the small, rectangular shaped box, packaged in silver wrapping paper and finished with a complimentary bow, held behind her back, to see Chloe loading used plates into the dishwasher. Again, it is so mundane, so _normal_ , but Beca basks in the comfortable domesticity of it all.

This time, her entrance into the room seems to catch Chloe’s attention, and Beca unabashedly melts beneath the softened look in her favorite eyes as they glance toward her over her shoulder, soft waves of auburn hair trailing down Chloe’s back.

“Are you trying to get out of clean up duty?” Chloe teases, straightening to cast a playful scowl Beca’s way.

“I mean, you’re doing such a good job yourself,” Beca says with a small shrug of her shoulder, subtle smirk lighting up her features as she approaches just in time to accept a small, gentle peck from Chloe’s inviting lips. It is short and chaste, but somehow still lingering, and Beca responds with a comfortable, lazy smile as they eventually part. Easily, Chloe’s arms rise to wrap loosely around Beca’s neck, where they rest in the smooth curves of her shoulders. “Santa brought something for you.”

The same way they had this morning, auburn brows raise with mild, pleasant surprise. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Beca nods, bringing the rectangular package from behind her back. She watches the way Chloe’s curious gaze brightens as it lands on the small gift, arms slowly loosening to grasp it with slender fingers.

“What is it?” Chloe questions, though she has already begun to cautiously turn it over in her hand to begin peeling away the silver wrapping, so Beca feels no need to verbally respond. Instead, she allows herself a quiet chuckle, firstly watching the box intently, before lifting her gaze toward Chloe’s face, eager to see her reaction. As Chloe carefully lifts the lid on the now unwrapped box, that anticipated gleam in her eye does not disappoint.

“Bec…” she says in a quieter voice, corners of her lips curving into a small, natural smile. Her gaze softens as she carefully plucks the white gold necklace from its protective velvet casing.

To outside eyes, it may not look like much, and is in fact incredibly similar to something Chloe has owned previously, but that is where the significance lies.

Chloe’s old necklace, the one Beca had gifted her shortly after Carson’s arrival, had quickly become one of her most cherished possessions. The thin chain held four small charms: the letters A, B and two C’s for each of their initials. It had been a total accident, the way Avery had reached up to cling onto Chloe in an attempt to climb into her lap, and somehow managed to catch her small fingers in a way that had totally demolished the intricate hooks of the chain. The way the charms were fastened had deemed it impossible to simply replace. Avery had been incredibly upset with herself, and despite the fact that Chloe had held her close and assured her that it was okay, just a silly accident and that she was absolutely not to blame, Beca could tell that Chloe was devastated, too.

This particular chain, laden with those same white gold initials, is slightly thicker than the last, hopefully a little more sturdy. And this time, where the charms had been plain before, there is now a small yet brightly glistening diamond studded into each. Small stars, each white gold, too, separate the letters, and Beca is sure, at least judging by the expression on Chloe’s face as she admires the detail, that she appreciates the additions.

“I know it’s probably kind of boring,” Beca states regardless, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. “I know you loved the other one, though.”

Chloe gently shakes her head, soft curls bouncing like delicately flickering flames as they cascade over her shoulders, and brings her dazzling gaze upward to lock naturally with Beca’s. “No, it’s not boring,” she promises, kind smile curving onto her lips. “Bec, it’s perfect. I love it.”

“Yeah?” Beca questions, easily relaxing in response to Chloe’s reaction. They may be older now; married women in their thirties with two beautiful children and exciting, fulfilling lives, but somewhere deep down, Beca is still that guarded eighteen year old to have met Chloe Beale all those years ago, still questions her own actions sometimes. Chloe, of course, never fails to easily deflate that guard, to pull it down so effortlessly, and for that, Beca is eternally grateful. “Good, cool,” she chuckles quietly, lifting a hand to tuck a fallen curl behind her ear.

“Put it on for me?” Chloe requests, holding out the chain for Beca to take. She turns once it is safely placed in Beca’s hand, and reaches up to lift her long hair out of the way as Beca stretches upward to fasten the clasp in place.

“There,” Beca says with a satisfied smile, hands instinctively falling to grasp delicately at Chloe’s hips as she turns her body toward her again. In the same motion, long arms wind around Beca’s neck, and Beca grins somewhat triumphantly into the incoming kiss.

“Thank you,” Chloe murmurs quietly against Beca’s lips, pulling back only far enough to nudge the tip of her nose gently to Beca’s. “It’s perfect. _You’re_ perfect.”

* * *

Like every day with two energetic children, the day proves to be a long one.

Evidently, the same is true for both Avery and Carson, who have passed out in the comfort of their cushioned car seats by the time Beca pulls up smoothly into their large driveway. She quietly nudges her elbow to Chloe’s arm as she turns her head to glance into the backseat, the two sharing a silent moment of thorough pride and adoration. It is easy to question themselves sometimes, to question their parenting, and whether they are actually doing any of this right. Of course, there is no strict, set measurement of how to raise a family, but it is moments like this, seeing their children so content and comfortable, so whole and fulfilled, that offers them the quiet reassurance that they need. It is affirmation that, in their own way, they really are getting this right.

Avery stirs only to cling her tiny arms around Chloe’s neck as she is eventually lifted carefully from her seat, while Carson never so much as twitches an eyelid. Their bath time ritual can be overlooked just this once, they quietly decide, and Carson proceeds to barely rouse as Beca carefully changes him for bed. Avery, on the other hand, briefly opens her eyes, but lazily allows Chloe to tug on her pajamas for her, before both are settled into their respective beds for the night. Quickly, and without the usual bedtime fuss, both are out for the count.

“I’d call that a successful Christmas Day,” Beca quietly comments with a hint of subtle pride as she makes her way swiftly into she and Chloe’s bedroom, gently closing the door behind her.

Chloe is perched on the edge of their mattress, but glances upward with a satisfied smile and a quick nod of her head. “I’d say so, too,” she agrees, hands flattening onto the bed, before she is able to push herself to her feet.

Instinctively, Beca’s arms stretch outward as Chloe approaches, until she can grasp gently at slender hips. In turn, Choe’s hands rise to rest against Beca’s shoulders, and Beca looks at her with a tilted head and a subtle look of smug questioning. Regardless, her fingertips grip onto her waist as Chloe begins to push her backward, until her back is gently pressing against the wall.

She is about to question her, ask her where this sudden display of evident need has come from, until Chloe motions upward, and Beca is forced to tear her curious gaze from her favorite eyes, to instead follow her darkened stare to the mistletoe decoration pinned to the wall.

Beca responds with a breathy chuckle, eyes training themselves on Chloe’s again. “How did that get there?”

Chloe only shrugs, but drops her arms to instead wrap long fingers around Beca’s hands, then instantly lifts them to wrap small arms around her neck. “Just a little Christmas magic,” she husks, head ducking to push parted lips delicately to Beca’s.

There is a gentle smirk painted on Beca’s lips, though she eagerly accepts the feeling of Chloe’s mouth against hers, effectively wiping the smug expression away. Clearly, they are now off the clock for the day, and Beca is absolutely not complaining. She proceeds to tighten her arms, head tilting as she easily loses herself in this much needed, long awaited kiss.

It is not uncommon for them to act like lovesick teenagers who just cannot manage to keep their hands to themselves, but they can’t quite do so as much as they would really like to these days, all things considered. Beca welcomes these moments, though. She welcomes the feeling of pearly teeth softly nipping at her bottom lip, of Chloe’s arms falling to wind their way so naturally around her waist, until muscular arms are lifting her effortlessly from the floor. Beca welcomes the attention, the reminder that, in spite of everything, they still want each other, that they are still so important, too. Her legs instinctively wrap around Chloe’s waist, while Chloe’s hands slide to rest splayed fingers against her ass, before she is turning to carry Beca, lips still moving against her own, toward their bed.

Evidently, however, as Chloe dips her body to lay Beca down, Beca is not quite ready to let go just yet. Instead, she straightens to her knees until she can tug Chloe down with her, lips immediately reconnecting in a passionate, desperate display of utter desire. Like they have suddenly gone from zero to one hundred in the space of a few seconds, they are a haphazard, hungry mess of exploring hands and quickly falling clothes, pent up desperation for one another spilling out into the increasingly thick atmosphere between them.

Beca’s chest has begun to rise and fall faster, breathing quickened as she forces herself just far enough away from Chloe’s lips to stare down at her naked form knelt on the mattress before her, previously made sheets already bunching up and tangling beneath them. Instinctively, shaky hands reach up to cup Chloe’s cheeks, and she melts beneath the lustful look in Chloe’s darkened gaze. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Beca murmurs, thighs easily parting as Chloe settles her hands beneath her ass to tug her into her lap.

Slender fingers move into messy auburn locks, just as Chloe dips her head to push her lips, parted and kiss-swollen already, to the hill of Beca’s breast. Beca’s trembling body straightens as she eyes her movements, watches the way Chloe presses kisses downward, until her lips are wrapping around a pebbled nipple. Beca releases an instant whimper at the contact, at the way Chloe’s teeth gently graze over hardened flesh, until the tip of her tongue is flickering over the stiffened peak. It is instinct for Beca to begin to rock her hips, to grind her body into Chloe’s as she feels the building arousal pooling between her legs.

Chloe’s hands trail upward, fingertips brushing delicately against the bare skin of Beca’s sides, and the small contact sends a jolt of need, one she hadn’t even realized had been nagging in the back of her mind all day, burning through Beca’s body.

“Do you want the strap, baby?” Chloe murmurs as she finally releases Beca’s nipple from between her lips, eager kisses peppering their way to the opposite side of her chest.

It is a tempting offer, one that Beca would ordinarily accept, but the idea of having to wait for them to get things situated proves unappealing, so Beca quickly shakes her head. “No,” she says through a ragged breath, lids fluttering shut and fingers clamping down onto Chloe’s hair as Chloe’s tongue sweeps over her nipple. “No, I just want you.” She wants their bodies pressed up together as closely as possible, wants to feel Chloe’s fingers inside of her, working the kind of magic that only Chloe knows how.

“Turn around,” Chloe whispers through something of a quiet husk as she pulls her mouth away from her breast, swollen lips pushing needy kisses up toward her shoulder.

“What?” Beca questions, hold loosening on Chloe’s hair.

She feels the way Chloe pushes against her hip. “Turn around, I want you in my lap.”

Fortunately, the loss of contact is minimal as Beca does as she is told, turning her body until her knees are pressing down into the mattress either side of Chloe’s thighs. Long fingers brush brunette tresses out of the way, before Beca feels Chloe’s lips pushing to the back of her shoulder, leaving a prickly trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With her back pressed to Chloe’s front, hardened nipples pushing against her skin, Beca can definitely see the appeal of the new position. Even more so as Chloe’s hands, eager to explore, trail around her front, thighs parting to spread Beca’s legs further apart. Beca needs her to touch her. She _needs_ to feel Chloe’s hands between her legs, needs her fingers to do those expert, sinful things to her body that Chloe is so damn good at, so when her fingertips coast toward the inside of her thigh, deliberately not touching where Beca wants her, Beca lets out an audible whine.

She cannot see Chloe’s face, but Beca can picture that familiar, smug expression, the way her lips are curved upward as her fingertips dance along her inner thigh, teasing her in a way that makes Beca want to beg. She knows that it is intentional, that that is exactly what Chloe wants, too.

“Chloe,” she murmurs, hips pushing forward slightly. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” Chloe hums by her ear, open-mouthed kisses trailing across the curve of her shoulder, sending a distinct shiver down Beca’s spine.

“ _Please_ ,” she repeats, and she doesn’t care how desperate she sounds. Beca knows Chloe, she knows that she likes to draw this reaction from her. She likes the requests and the begging, likes knowing how badly Beca wants her. How badly she _needs_ her. “Please,” Beca turns her head to capture Chloe’s lips with her own, mumbling against them, “Fuck me.”

Evidently, that was all Chloe needed. She needed Beca’s lips against hers, needed to hear the verbal request, because her hand begins to trail upward until the tip of her finger is finally sliding through aching folds, and Beca murmurs out a gentle whimper against Chloe’s mouth in response to the much needed contact.

“Like that?” Chloe whispers into the kiss, pad of her finger beginning to stroke painfully slowly against Beca’s swollen clit.

“Mhm,” Beca manages to whimper out, head nodding gently, and Chloe runs with the same motion, until two fingers are kneading tight, fast circles into the sensitive flesh beneath them. Beca’s hips begin to move instinctively, back arching into Chloe’s body. As her fingers dip to run through the distinct heat of Beca’s pooling arousal dripping from her neglected cunt, Beca’s lips part against Chloe’s, breath catching in her throat.

There really are no words to describe how Chloe is making her feel, how she is thoroughly igniting Beca’s entire body and sparking it to life with the simple touch of her fingers. Those same two fingers dip again, this time to sink into her aching cunt, and Beca moans in natural reaction, with Chloe quickly silencing her with a gentle, “ _Shh_.”

It is easy for them to lose themselves in these moments, when it is just the two of them in tangled sheets and intertwined bodies, but this is not simply a two-person household, and Beca quickly nods in response, volume lowering to whimper quietly against Chloe’s lips.

“Good girl,” Chloe whispers, fingers sinking further inside, arched tips curling to brush against tightened walls.

In spite of Chloe’s words, her warnings to remain quiet, she really does not do much to aid in Beca’s silence. Her fingers quickly find a steady rhythm of sliding halfway out before sinking just as deeply back inside, while the short fingernails of her free hand coast over the smooth skin of Beca’s torso, until she is able to palm at her breast in a way that causes Beca to ache, causes her hips to rock and unintentional moaning sounds to rise from her throat. Chloe only pushes her lips harder against Beca’s, drowning out the sounds Beca knows she desperately wants to hear, and Beca can very distinctly feel the way Chloe’s mouth arches upward at the corners.

“Fuck,” Beca hisses urgently into the now messy kiss—if it can even be called a kiss; mostly it is just Beca’s open mouth resting against Chloe’s, a series of high-pitched whimpers and quiet, strangled moans falling against it—and Beca reaches over her shoulder to clutch at the back of Chloe’s curls, grip instantly tightening to keep herself as grounded as she can with Chloe fucking her the way she is.

It doesn’t take much more than Chloe’s hand falling from Beca’s breast to instead rest between her legs, two fingers pushing tight circles into her swollen clit as the others continue to pump relentlessly in and out of her dripping cunt, to push Beca to her peak. She is less quiet than she should be as she comes with her hips rocking and Chloe’s fingers buried deeply inside of her, a stream of unholy curse words, very much not in keeping with the wholesome Christmas theme of the day, falling into Chloe’s mouth.

Beca would like to say that she doesn’t know how this all transpired from a simple, innocent kiss beneath the mistletoe, but she does. She knows that she can never resist Chloe, that these moments where it is just the two of them are always so cherished, so desperately longed for. Above all, they are loving, devoted mothers, but ultimately, they are still _them_ , they still need one another just as strongly as they had from the very first day. Avery and Carson are the most important people, they are loved beyond measure. But Beca and Chloe? They are loved, too. Completely and irrevocably, they are loved, too.

Chloe’s movements slow in time for Beca, with shaky, trembling thighs, to turn her body until she can face Chloe, quickly straddling her lap again, and grasping needily at flushed cheeks. Her lips, still releasing quiet whimpers, crash against Chloe’s, and Chloe eagerly returns the motion, hands rising to run her fingers through Beca’s messy hair.

If she didn’t want to fuck Chloe so badly, to make her feel even half as good as Beca is still feeling, she wouldn’t know where she managed to muster the strength to push Chloe back, but soon they are falling with Chloe’s head against the pillows, and Beca pushing fast, desperate pecks to swollen lips.

Still trying to coax herself down from her high, Beca pulls back only to stare down at Chloe’s face, to take in the smug look of ecstasy in her glowing expression.

“That was so hot,” Chloe rasps, one hand still clutching onto Beca’s hair, while the other moves around to tuck a brunette curl delicately behind her ear. She is right, it was incredibly hot, but there is something somehow so gentle, so soft, so _loving_ about this, too. Chloe allows herself a breathy chuckle, eyes sparkling as they stare up into Beca’s. “You’re so bad at being quiet.”

“Yeah?” Beca questions through her faster breathing, head ducking to push a needy, open-mouthed kiss to the underside of Chloe’s jaw. Chloe’s head tips back accommodatingly, soft hum releasing through her lips, and Beca can feel her darkened gaze following her as she begins to push wet, lingering kisses further down her body. “Let’s see how quiet you can be.”

In reality, they both know Chloe is even worse at holding back her reactions than Beca.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everybody! Whatever you celebrate, I hope your holiday season is filled with joy. Find me [here](https://chloebeale.tumblr.com/), and the Pitchmas blog [here](https://merry-pitchmas.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
